


overglow

by zora (nico_neo)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Bartender!Osamu, Fluff, M/M, Sexual Content, gratuitous description of osamu's body proportions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28153965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nico_neo/pseuds/zora
Summary: When the ‘closed’ sign was on, Osamu didn’t waste any time to pin Rintarou against one of the walls and to kiss the living daylight out of him.It’s when Osamu finally reached his ear from the line of kisses he trailed on his neck that it became different from every other Wednesday.“I want you to fuck me, this time."Jesus fucking Christ.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 7
Kudos: 100
Collections: Bartender Osamu, SunaOsa





	overglow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spiritscript](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritscript/gifts).



> .... yeah, it happened, eh

It became a routine, sort of. Every Wednesday night, Rintarou’s band, the Raijin, would take on the scene, play songs all night long until the bar would close. It definitely helped them gain some popularity, if the new amount of followers on their band’s Instagram page was anything to go by. 

And, every Wednesday, when the front door of the bar was locked and the ‘open’ sign has turned to ‘closed’, Rintarou stayed. He stayed to get hands encircling his slim waist while fingers were already fiddling with the hem of whatever shirt he was wearing. He stayed to get lips trailing kisses upon his neck, starting from the junction of his collarbone up to his jaw. To get teeth nipping at his earlobe as a broad and warm chest crashed against his back while he could feel something hard poke at his ass as Osamu slowly, _hungrily_ grinned against him. He stayed to get his back slammed either against one of the walls of the bar — and there were many of them — and Osamu would lift him up and fuck him like this, like he weighted nothing, Rintarou’s naked back scraping against the painted walls to leave warm marks for several days. Or, to be asked to bend over the counter — the high stools flying to the floor to make more room — as Osamu rammed into him from behind, his big and skillful hands grounding his hips into place and leaving red and purple marks, also for several days. Sometimes, Osamu will take him to the back room, in between alcohol bottles and metallic shelves. Even in Osamu’s pick up once, before they crashed at Osamu’s place to continue with their _delightful_ night.

In other words, Rintarou stayed to get railed into oblivion by Tall, Broad, Handsome _and_ fucking _Big_ Osamu until he couldn’t walk properly for the next two days. 

And that was _fucking_ phenomenal.

Sometimes he even wondered how he managed to get through their whole performance ever Wednesday with a full and aching boner. The simple view of Osamu’s frame behind the bar as he happily prepared drinks; the simple scheme of envisioning what was hidden behind these incredibly tight shirts that never seemed to rip open with every movement Osamu made, the tattoo on his torso, the defined and _wide_ chest with his two rosy nipples that begged for attention, the broadness of his shoulders and the muscles underneath that kept on flexing and turning Rintarou on more than he would like to admit, his perfect bubbles of ass cheeks… all of this, was enough to make him pop a boner one step into the bar. He didn’t know how he managed to play with the tightness of his jeans. 

If every Wednesday was: enter the bar, pop a boner, play and finally get fucked by Greek god sculpted Osamu, this Wednesday was different from usual. 

The first part, at least, was habit: enter the bar, pop a boner, play and try not to come on the spot when meeting Osamu’s hungry and incredibly sexy silver eyes. Had Rintarou talked about the (annoying) perverted side glances and wriggle of eyebrows Motoya kept giving him from behind his drums? Because that was _annoying._ Motoya was annoying in general, but even more since Rintarou’s ass and Osamu’s dick were having weekly appointments. 

Mayhaps he could bribe the cheap knock-off and definitely lower grade brother — yes, Atsumu — into getting Motoya laid, maybe he will get off his back for a bit, that way. He put this idea at the back of his head to come back to later. 

So, the first part of Wednesday night: checked. Boner still on, definitely aching, needs release. Or, Osamu’s mouth sucking it like a lollipop. 

The second part of this Wednesday, though, was different from usual.

When the ‘closed’ sign was on, Osamu didn’t waste any time to pin Rintarou against one of the walls and to kiss the living daylight out of him. Oh yeah, has Rintarou talked about Osamu’s tongue? That tongue that did wonder both in his mouth as it danced with his own and licked his palate in the most outrageous way; that tongue that did wonder when it stretched him open by fucking him in and out, that licked him like you’d suck the juice from a fruit and which would tear debauching sounds from his mouth. 

It’s when Osamu finally reached his ear from the line of kisses he trailed on his neck that it became different from every other Wednesday.

“I want you to fuck me, this time.”

 _Jesus fucking Christ._

Rintarou isn’t sure if this single sentence had made him come in his jeans or not. If not, then he was definitely close to. 

“Fuck you,” Rintarou could only groan.

He felt Osamu smirk against his neck, from where he was biting the skin. “Well, yes that’s the plan.”

“You can’t say things like this when I’m not even naked yet.” and with that, Rintarou yanked Osamu’s shirt open, not caring about the button that went flying to the floor. It’s not the first shirt he’s ruined, anyway. 

Their pants were next, not really caring about the grace with which they got them off, Rintarou didn’t give a shit, he needed to feel Osamu’s cock against his before he went crazy. He moaned when it happened, and he felt Osamu grunting in his hair as they started rutting against each other. 

“Fuck me against the wall, from behind.” Osamu said, whispered, in his ear.

Oh god. Oh _god_.

Rintarou couldn’t help the way his lips stuttered, making the heads of their hard cocks rub against one another. He could have come just from this and Osamu’s sinful words. 

Fucking Osamu sounded great. Yeah, definitely. Getting railed to black space and back by the sex god himself wasn’t _definitely, absolutely_ great. But, being the one to fuck the sex god? Absolutely. Rintarou would be a fool to let go the opportunity to not get _his_ dick in that perfect ass.

He still wanted Osamu’s dick, though.

“Okay,” he finally managed to breath out. “But you definitely fuck me against the counter next.”

“Because you thought it wasn’t planned?” Osamu grinned.

“Great.” Rintarou said, and dropped to his knees, pushing the bartender’s boxers off and not waiting a second more to take him in his mouth.

Osamu let out a corrupted sound that shot his way down to Rintarou’s aching dick. His hands grabbed fistful of Rintarou’s hair and Rintarou didn’t have to look up to know his head was thrown back and his mouth was open to let melodious moans reach his ears. As he was bobbing his head in a steady rhythm, his hands ran through the steadiness of his thighs to his ass. He scratched the skin with his nails, feeling the muscles flexing underneath until he reached his lusted point. Free of hair, perfectly waxed, smooth like baby skin. Rintarou teased it with his finger, making Osamu heaved out a breathy moan that made Rintarou smirk despite the cock in his mouth. Osamu’s grip in his hair tightened when he pushed a first knuckle in, testing the waters. He kept on adding more fingers the more Osamu loosened around him and the more his moans became louder.

When _finally_ Osamu was pushed flat against the wall, his hard on stuck between his muscular stomach and the blockwork, Rintarou aligned himself with the hole he was abusing with his fingers a few seconds before. He wasn’t as big as Osamu, but he wasn’t someone to feel sorry for. Still, he pushed in softly, enjoying and taking in the way Osamu’s ass cheeks flexed in front of him and how the bartender arched his back to get _more_ of him inside. 

Rintarou wrapped his arms around Osamu’s ridiculously small waist, running his hands up to his nipples to playfully pinch them as he waited for Osamu’s green light to start moving. 

Now, he could say it, being _inside_ Osamu was _divine._ And the moans that danced out of his mouth with each thrust as Rintarou pounded into him in an intense and deft rhythm; the way Osamu tightened around him was _heavenly_. 

Knowing slamming into Osamu was as good as when Osamu slammed into him was definitely a good thing to know. And he indulged into this pleasure when he felt Osamu’s thighs shake against his and his broad back leaned on Rintarou’s slightly less broad chest as he came down from the pleasure overtaking him. Moans and groans joined the cacophony of clapping skin.

“Oh god,” Osamu moaned, stroking himself. Rintarou could already see the precome leaking out of the tip. 

“You feel so good, Osamu,” Rintarou couldn’t help but whisper, directly in the bartender’s ear. 

It elicited a cry from Osamu as he came in his hand, some splashing on the wall in front of him. Rintarou felt his own hips bucking, messily, his own release, feeling the condom warm up as it got filled with the evidence of his orgasm and pleasure. He bit on Osamu’s neck, riding his orgasm with tightly shut eyes and breathing through his nose. The air crashed against Osamu’s sweaty skin. 

Osamu leaned back further, until he could rest his head against Rintarou’s shoulder. Rintarou lazily and blissfully nosed at his cheek, placing butterfly kisses on it and against his jaw as Osamu breathed out. 

He was about to pull out but Osamu wrapped his arms around the one Rintarou had on his chest. He grabbed one of his hands in his.

“Don’t pull out yet,” Osamu said, not louder than a whisper. 

Rintarou agreed, and they stayed like this, arms wrapped around each other’s on Osamu’s chest with their hands intertwined. Cheek against cheek. 

Osamu really felt _nice_ to have in his arms.

The bartender turned his head to the side, looking at him through half-lidded eyes and Rintarou could only lean to kiss him on the lips. It wasn’t hungry like the ones they shared a few minutes ago, it wasn’t a battle for dominance or to turn the other on. And Rintarou really liked the feeling of Osamu’s lips against his in that setting.

Just like his cocktails, it was hooking. 

“D’you want to like, grab something to eat, sometimes?” Osamu asked, lips still brushing with his when they separated. Rintarou had pulled out during their kiss — making Osamu moan against him, it definitely was one of his favourite sounds — now, his almost softened dick was resting against a warm and muscular thigh. 

Rintarou hummed, and couldn’t help the smirk pulling at his lips. “I still get the free cocktails?”

Osamu chuckled, straightening a little. Rintarou brought him back, kissed him again. Osamu kissed him back a couple of times for a few seconds. Rintarou squeezed the hand holding his when they separated again. 

“Cocktail and food, then?” Osamu proposed again.

“Sounds good.”

He still got railed against the countertop that night, when Osamu’s stamina seemed to have jumped to the roof once Rintarou accepted his proposition. 

Now, he could add dinner to his Wednesdays program. Not that he was complaining. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading if you read this far ! \o/ 
> 
> Comments and kudos are my serotonin boost!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bokutowantsyou)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/bokutowantsyou)  
> 


End file.
